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“Anyone we know?” Dave inquired.
“No. The girls haven’t been here before,” Pam replied. “Luke is careful not to spook kids by asking for their names too soon, but I’ll probably be able to tell you who they are later this afternoon.”
“I was referring to the murderer,” Dave stressed. He caught Catherine’s eye and winked. “Hi, there.”
Catherine could barely manage a smile for the maintenance man, but she was enormously appreciative. Everyone at Lost Angel was friendly except Luke, and she was desperately sorry not to have left well enough alone where he was concerned.
Pamela introduced Dave to Catherine, then reached out to give his arm a playful shove. “No, silly, it was just some blonde in a red dress.”
Ron Flanders took a quick step toward Pam’s desk. “A woman killed the guy?”
“He was a pimp,” Pam enunciated clearly. “One of his girls must have been dissatisfied with his service.”
“Whoever she is, the city ought to award her a plaque for sending that slimy rat to the eternal sewer,” Dave proposed.
Catherine directed her question to Pam. “Even if Felix wouldn’t have been nominated for Hollywood’s man of the year, aren’t you going to contact the police so they can question the girls?”
“Once they’ve eaten, Luke will convince them it’s their civic duty and then let them use our telephone,” Pam assured her. “He encourages all the kids to be responsible citizens. When they fail, usually with disastrous results, he helps them analyze what happened so they can show better judgment in the future. Didn’t he explain that this morning?”
“He sure did,” Ron Flanders replied.
Catherine feared Luke must have covered that point while she was wondering about the man himself and was embarrassed by that lapse a second time. “Yes, of course, he did.” She pushed herself to her feet. “You have my home telephone number, Pam. If Luke gives you so much as a sneer later, please call me.”
“You and Luke mixing it up again?” Dave asked the secretary.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Pam assured him. “Now, when would you like to come back and see us again, Mr. Flanders?”
Catherine went right on out the door rather than set up a schedule for herself, and she was surprised when Dave Curtis came along with her to the parking lot. “How did you and Ron do with the sprinklers?” she asked.
“Pretty good, actually, but I’ve got a manual with cle
ar diagrams on how to repair damn near everything, and sprinklers aren’t all that complicated.” He walked her to her Volvo and then leaned back against the fender.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what a nice guy like me is doing in a place like this,” he began with an easy grin. “I once had a beautiful wife, two cute little kids and a big house in Orange County. Then the bottom fell out of the economy, and the interior design company I worked for went bankrupt. When we had to sell our home, my wife divorced me and took the kids back to Iowa.
“I’d met Luke at a fund-raiser, when I had plenty of funds to donate. He heard about my troubles and offered me a job with living quarters. The apartment is downright cozy, even if it is in the church basement, and I jumped at the chance to work here,” he concluded. “Life has a way of throwing us some pretty nasty curves, but I’m surviving.”
Despite the offhand way he’d recounted his recent history, Catherine knew having suffered such wrenching losses must still hurt. She’d been burned once today while trying to offer sympathy, but the optimistic glint in Dave’s eyes showed he had no need of it.
“We all expect the good times to last forever, don’t we?” she asked.
Dave nodded, straightened up and took a step away from her car. “I sure as hell did, but we could talk for hours on that subject, and all I’d meant to say was that even if Luke is having an off day, I sure hope you’ll keep coming back.”
His smile was very charming, and it suddenly struck Catherine that rather than merely being friendly, he was actually flirting with her. Plenty of men had flirted with her over the years, but they’d all known how devoted she was to Sam, and it had always been playful rather than a sincere effort to touch her heart. She was no longer happily married, however, and didn’t know quite what to make of Dave Curtis.
She unlocked her car, then leaned against the door. “Are you coming on to me?”
Dave raised his hands in an exaggerated gesture of innocence and began to back away. “No, ma’am. I saw your wedding ring, and I respect marriage as sacred. Can’t help but think that way living here.”
His good-natured grin was such a welcome sight, Catherine found it easy to speak the words she couldn’t form earlier. “I’m a widow, but I’m not ready to remove my wedding ring just yet.”
Dave dropped his hands, and his expression turned to one of genuine concern. “I’m real sorry to hear of your loss, Cathy, but whenever you’re ready to start going out, let me know. There are plenty of ways to have fun that don’t cost a penny, and I know I could show you a real good time.”
He winked again before walking away, and while Catherine couldn’t even imagine going out on a date, she was smiling as she left for home.
Luke went running that night. He lived in a condo near UCLA and as usual passed other joggers out burning off the day’s tensions. Sometimes he returned home tired enough to sleep, but tonight he could have run all the way to San Diego and back and not outdistanced his demons.
He stood in the shower and let the hot water beat down on his shoulders until the steam eased the soreness in his muscles, but nothing had soothed the ache in his soul since the morning he’d found Marcy dead. He could block the pain for hours at a time, then something, or some well-meaning fool, would remind him of his daughter, and the excruciating torment would begin anew.
